


Hot and Cold

by jqueen17



Category: Phan
Genre: DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, Dentists, Fluff, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Wisdom Teeth, so much fluff omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:42:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7355962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jqueen17/pseuds/jqueen17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Description: A very short fluffy drabble fic that I wrote in response to Phil getting ready to get his wisdom teeth removed (boys I am expecting videos!):)</p>
<p>Length: A very short 2,376 words</p>
<p>Warnings: Literally nothing, dentists and fluff basically</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot and Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This was tons of fun to write, and I’d like to give a shoutout to @phanscherryblossom on tumblr for letting me use their AMAZING tweets they came up with (the funny little Phil anecdotes in the cab)! Check their blog out if you have a sec, they are clearly hilarious and very nice for letting me use their hilarious ideas:)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Dan   
“So he'll be kind of out of it for about a day, right?” 

The dentist nodded, handing me a small sack with Phil's medicine, mouthwash, and instructions on what to do with them all.

“Twenty four hours is the usual time frame for the medication to wear off, and since it was mixed with the nitrous oxide, he'll be rather confused and, as you said, out of it for a short period. Are you okay with that?”

I nodded, giving the doctor a grin. I loved dentists, because they were some of the most humourous and professional people I'd ever met. Yeah, it may sound odd, someone actually liking dentists, but I was an odd person anyway, so it didn't really matter.

“Just make sure he eats soft foods and stays away from straws and he should be fine.”

I nodded again, following the doctor to where Phil was sitting in the chair in the office, looking dazed. But his eyes immediately brightened at the site of me, and I smiled and waved a little as the doctor went to help him stand.

“Dan! I thought you'd left me here all by myself.”

I chuckled, mostly at Phil but also at the expression on the doctor’s face as Phil struggled to stand. Walking over, I took one of Phil's arms, draping it over my shoulder and putting an arm around his waist. We were taller than the doctor by at least six inches, so it was easier for me to guide Phil then it was for him.

“You two have a nice day, okay?” the doctor smiled, waving as we stumbled through the door.

“You too!” Phil called loudly, causing everyone in the waiting room we were walking through to stare. I waved at them, hurrying Pbil through the door before he started singing or something equally ridiculous.

We made it to a taxi, which I had to wave down one-handedly while talking to a basically-drunk man trying to run down the street because he didn't understand how stupid London traffic was on a Friday.

“I want a milkshake.” Phil announced, making the taxi driver raise an eyebrow. The milkshake place was the other way, so it would cost extra, but I wanted to make Phil happy because he hated the dentist and he had actually done quite well. For Phil.

“Okay, but you can't use a straw.”

Phil stared dejectedly out the window, looking as if he were in a sad music video. “Then where’s the joy.”

The cab driver burst out laughing, and I grinned at him in the rearview mirror. He had to know Phil was on laughing gas right now-his normally slender face was puffed up and his eyes were way too bright, and he was acting drunk. It was obvious. And it was hilarious.

We sat in silence for a very short time before Phil began talking again, not seeming to know how to stop.

“My mouth hurts.”

I sighed, catching the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror and shaking my head affectionately. “That’s because they cut teeth out of your mouth.”

Phil’s head snapped towards me, and I heard him gasp. “WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?”

Once again, the taxi driver’s laughter was loud and clear, despite his best efforts to conceal it as a bout of coughing.

“Dentist, Phil. We were just there. You got your wisdom teeth removed?

Phil looked horrified for one second before smirking evilly. “Does your mouth hurt too?”

I shook my head, making his face fall. “No, I didn’t have surgery, Phil.”

He looked horrified again. “HOW IS THAT FAIR?”

I couldn’t help reaching over and squeezing his hand at that, and that small act seemed to appease him for the moment. We rode the rest of the way home in silence, listening to the radio of the cab and watching the lights of London whiz by. I didn’t know about Phil, but I’d sure missed our city during the tour.

Once we’d reached our building, Phil got out to stand at the back of the cab while I paid the driver, who raised an eyebrow at me and gave me a knowing look. “He your boyfriend? Cause you guys are adorable together.”

I blinked in surprise before smiling at him, giving him a few extra pounds. “Nah, he’s not. Just my best friend. But thanks.”

He waved me off, and I hoped Phil didn’t notice the blush in my cheeks as we made our way upstairs.

 

Once I’d managed to get us up the stairs and into the flat, Phil seemed to finally feel the full effects of both the medicine and the absence of the laughing gas.

“My mouth really does hurt, Dan.”

I nodded, guiding him to the sofa and plugging in one of the fans we had position everywhere, turning it to face him.

“I’ll make us some tea, okay? Then you can take your medicine and go to bed.”

Phil seemed okay with this, so I made the tea and measured out the right amount of the liquid medicine so he could go to sleep quickly. Phil hated dentists just as much as I liked them, and had to take the oral medication, an anti-anxiety pill, and the laughing gas in order to not freak out so much that the doctors were worried he’d have a heart attack at the age of twenty nine. I was also allowed to stay in the room, and my presence seemed to fully calm Phil for the duration of the procedure.

It also seemed to calm him as I walked back into the lounge, where he was fiddling with the remote but not watching anything on TV. I handed him his mug, being careful because I wasn’t entirely sure Phil would be able to keep it from spilling the hot liquid all down his front. 

“Does it hurt that bad?” I asked gently, watching Phil’s face closely. He nodded, his face ever-so-slightly pinched even as he smiled at me with an emotion swirling around in his eyes. I could tell the laughing gas had mostly worn off by now, and now his mind was clouded with the aching of his entire face.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back,” I said quickly, going to the kitchen and retrieving a large bowl, some ice, and a washcloth. When I returned to the lounge, Phil looked curious, biting his lip in thought before wincing and taking the medicine I had set on the table.

“Will an ice pack help?” Phil asked hesitantly, pressing his fingers to his jaw and snatching them back immediately. I sat beside him, placing the bowl of ice at my feet and setting the cloth over it to cool. 

“Ice will, yes. It stings if it touches your tooth, because of the extreme temperature of the liquid, but it also reduced swelling and pain if you do it right.”

Phil looked impressed. “Your random knowledge is useful sometimes, Howell.”

I grinned before nodding to the bowl. “Do you want to do it yourself, or…?”

Taking a moment to think, Phil eventually settled on a decision. “I think you should do it, since you know what you’re doing and everything.”

I nodded. Fair enough. 

After making sure the washcloth was cold and wringing and liquid out of it, I held in up, raising my eyebrows at Phil. “You ready?”

Phil nodded, closing his eyes and sucking in a breath as the cloth touched his jaw. I held it there, applying the least amount of pressure possible lest I accidentally bruise his jaw. Because let’s face it, knowing me, that would happen. Phil continued to keep his eyes shut, fumbling for my hand and pressing it harder against his face.

“Is it helping?” I asked hesitantly, worried I was hurting him worse than he already was. But the corner of his mouth went up, and I took that as a sign that it was helping, if only a little.

Every few minutes or so I would alternate the cloth from one side of Phil’s jaw to the other, making sure it was freezing cold before pressing it to his face. He continued to guide my hand, running it and the cloth along his jaw rhythmically. I kept thinking how insane the phandom would be if they could see this, even if Phil and I were literally just trying to make his face look less like a blowfish and more like… well, Phil’s face.

And it seemed to be working. We had continued our system for a little over half an hour by the time the ice melted, since summer in London was ridiculous even with an AC unit. Of course, ours just happened to be complete shit at keeping the flat cool. The coldest place in the entire house was my room, either due to all the fans or the lack of sunlight or hot lightbulbs making the thing resemble a living hell. The lounge wasn’t too bad, but it was still ridiculous, and we were both sweating despite having had my hands and Phil’s face iced for thirty minutes.

“Phil, do you want to sleep in my room tonight? One of the side effects for your medicine was hot flashes, and you’ll probably die if you have one in this heat.”

Apparently agreeing, Phil led the way, stumbling, to my room, flopping down on the bed before I’d even entered the room.

“You want to go change first?” I asked, noting that he was still in his skinny jeans. He groaned, nearly rolling off the bed and dragging his way to his room to put shorts on. I chuckled, doing the same, and gave the bed a long look before deciding not to bother with a blanket tonight. I usually couldn’t sleep without at least a small one, even in the summer, because of my fear of Samara and whatnot grabbing me in my sleep, but I figured I could let it slide this one time. For Phil’s sake.

Closing the door behind him, Phil came back into the room, immediately crawling over to the other side of the bed and sighing in relief as the fan rotated towards his face.

“Your room is so cold.”

I smirked, finishing the joke before he could. “Like my heart?”

Phil frowned, opening his eyes and propping himself up on one arm to look at me where I was sitting on my piano bench. “No. I don’t think your heart is cold at all. If it were, you wouldn’t have dealt with me all day and taken care of me.”

I snorted, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him and raising an eyebrow dubiously. “You’re telling me that I, Dan Howell, do not have a frozen heart and a black soul?”

Phil rolled his eyes, sighing loudly at my dramatics before arguing his side. “You rode with me to the dentist’s office, sat and waited with me for nearly an hour after my appointment was scheduled, dealt with my bullshit fear of dentists, stayed in the room with me while I cried because I was delirious, rode in a taxi with me while I embarrassed the both of us with said deliria, made me tea, gave me my medicine, helped to make my face feel a lot better, and let me sleep in your room so I wouldn’t die of a heat stroke. That isn’t a cold heart, Dan, and that isn’t a black soul. So thank you.”

I blinked, unable to argue. I had done all of that. Instead of smirking in victory, a small smile spread across Phil’s face, and he seemed to be thinking something over as I finally said something.

“Thank you, Phil. I guess I’m not as bad as I’d like to say I am.”

Phil did smirk now, something flashing across his eyes so fast I wasn’t able to identify it. 

“You’re a squish, Dan. Everyone is right. You’re not hardcore emo and punk and all the things your brand is, okay?” Phil’s hand seemed to find its way to my face on its own, and as he ghosted his fingers over my face so softly that I sucked in a small breath, I felt the blush from earlier rising to the surface of my cheeks. 

“You’re the opposite. You’re sensitive and pastel and soft, and if all it takes to make you show that is a trip to the dentist’s office, I’ll go more often.”

I smiled as his fingers stopped at my chin, tilting my head up a little because I had ducked it to avoid meeting his gaze. I looked him in the eyes now, though; I had no choice. And the emotion that was there, the emotion I couldn’t identify for the entirety of the day, was love.

Phil leaned forward until his face was right in front of mine, burning my cheeks with his blue eyes and making my breath catch with his smile, my skin burn from his touch. Hot skin like the air in London, and an apparently not-so-cold heart that was beating faster than I wanted it to.

“Dan, can I kiss you?”

He was really waiting for an answer. He was that sweet. I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his gently so I wouldn’t hurt his still-tender jaw and mumbling “no” against his mouth. He laughed briefly before deepening the kiss, and considering I had to be careful not to hurt his jaw, it was one hell of a kiss.

Phil eventually ended the kiss by leaning back to yawn, and I laughed, clicking the light off and rolling over to face the door. “Go to sleep, you spork.”

Snuggling closer to me, Phil put an arm around my waist and hugged me to him. His lips were against my neck, but I didn’t mind, because it was Phil and I knew he was incapable of hurting someone, least of all me.

“Hey, Dan?”

I groaned into the pillow, making Phil laugh before whispering, “I love you. And thank you.”

I smiled, intertwining my fingers with his, which had been resting against the bottom of my stomach, and squeezed his hand. 

“I love you too, Phil.”


End file.
